


柳煙花霧

by Soapbubblesoul



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harem, Alternate Universe - Historical, Ancient China, Concubine Yifan, Domestic, Emperor Yixing, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Marking, Scents & Smells, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 05:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15112445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soapbubblesoul/pseuds/Soapbubblesoul
Summary: Everyone thinks that Yifan is just any concubine, that Yixing will take more concubines in the future. They think he's just being picky, and few women and men meet his standards. But, the reality is, there's only one person who meets Yixing's standard and he has no reason to crave anyone else.





	柳煙花霧

**Author's Note:**

  * For [castorous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/castorous/gifts).



> 柳煙花霧 (liǔyānhuāwù) - lit. willow scent and mist of blossom (idiom); scene full of the delights of spring
> 
> I know this is almost a month late but HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHER! I wanted to write you a fic as a present but then it kept growing and I was so slow with writing, but I hope you'll like it!  
> It might not be Yifan calling Yixing "my king", but I hope him calling Yixing "my emperor" is just as good~
> 
> Also special thanks to Lo for betaing, your help made this fic ten times better!

When Yixing storms back into his bedchamber, he does so with thunderous steps. His advisors have been particularly thick-headed throughout the day. He’s aware that they've spent all their life honing their knowledge, learning scroll after scroll by heart to absorb the wisdom of past generations. But on days like these, Yixing can't help but wonder if it's made them blind to what is going on right outside of the walls that protect them.

Or, rather, protect them from some threats, while letting others thrive. 

Yixing has held the throne long enough to know when the shadows are wavering with maligned intentions. He tries his hardest to be a just ruler, but that doesn't sit well with everyone. Ever since he could walk, Yixing has had to deal with people wanting to bring him down.

From assassination attempts by mothers of other princes, wishing to secure their own child a better spot in the line of succession for the throne, to being accused of wishing to topple the crown prince when he came off age. The accusations had been false, of course, nothing but a political scheme to cause his fall. Yixing never wanted power, per se. He only wants to serve his people, in whatever way he can. May that be through ruling the nation himself, or supporting another monarch; he never cared much.

Over the years, he’s had to grow immune to hushed whispers that attempt to degrade him, rumours about the gruesome thoughts that supposedly linger behind his angelic face. He's learned to take everything with a serene smile while he's surrounded by the wrong people, and only let his frustrations show when he's with the right ones.

Specifically, with  _ the _ right one.

The rustling of fabric makes Yixing jump back, his heart leaping into his throat as he assumes the best protective stance he can manage – Tao would be disappointed in him with how weak it is, but Yixing's martial arts skills have always been lacking.

He certainly is surprised by the view that greets him when he whips around, but he immediately relaxes, exhaling the breath he'd been holding. He hadn't expected Yifan to be back in their quarters yet.

That morning, the concubine had appeared to be in one of his solitary moods, which usually means that he would spend the entirety of his day in the library, practising calligraphy or going through poetry. Just last week, Yixing had ordered for a new set of scrolls to be procured from the market, containing folklore and heroic stories. He knows the library isn't supposed to hold such works, but Yifan loves the stories, and Yixing loves Yifan. When Yifan usually falls into his solitary moods, he will only return to Yixing's side long after the sun has set, huddling into Yixing's side and encasing him with enough warmth to allow Yixing a peaceful night of sleep.

On the bed, Yifan's eyebrows bunch together for a split second in a mixture of worry and concern. Yifan knows exactly what it means when any tiny noise makes Yixing jump. There’s a high chance the concubine already noticed the signs of tension within the palace walls himself as well.

But then, Yifan’s expression smoothes out again immediately, and he sits upright just enough to put his chest on full display without getting up from the mattress. It's a sight Yixing should be well acquainted with by now, having witnessed it on countless occasions, in daylight and under moonshine, but it still steals the breath from his lungs.

Yifan is gorgeous, has been since the day Yixing first laid eyes on him. And sometimes Yixing wonders how it's possible that every passing year only seems to enhance Yifan's beauty rather than corrode it. Yixing has an idea, that it might be his ever-growing fondness for Yifan that influences his vision.

The sheer robes Yifan is wearing are doing very little to cover his physique, barely concealing the soft lines of firm muscles etched in his tanned skin. Yixing knows exactly how smooth, how warm it would be beneath his hands, and the thought makes his fingers twitch involuntarily.

"I've been waiting for your return," Yifan declares, a small smile playing around his lips.

Even without Yifan saying it, Yixing would have been able to tell. The concubine is well aware of the effect these robes have on Yixing, but they are far from being Yifan’s usual daily attire. Tongue-tied, Yixing watches as Yifan rises from his seat among the plush pillows, which are spread all over the huge bed they share every night.

Yixing knows it’s impossible, but his heartbeat seems to simultaneously slow as Yifan's presence calms him and speed up when his eyes fall on Yifan's standing form, bare except for the robe. With slow but sure steps, Yifan walks over to Yixing, every movement hypnotising. He comes to a halt right in front of Yixing, so close that Yixing already has to tilt his head back slightly to look his concubine in the eyes.

Yifan’s features are schooled into a more thoughtful expression, but his eyes speak of nothing but fondness. "You look as if you could use some relaxing."

All of Yixing’s thoughts about thick-headed advisors and scheming politicians are forgotten when Yifan whispers, "Let me help," and reaches for the sash that secures the uppermost layer of Yixing's robes.

Yifan takes his time in undressing Yixing, no hurry despite having eagerly awaited Yixing's return. And Yixing allows it, layer after layer of silk falling away from his body under the working of Yifan's nimble fingers. Yifan's hands stroke over Yixing's chest, shoulders, down his arms, and back up whenever another layer is removed. Yixing feels as though with every piece of clothing that falls to the ground, the weight of responsibility gets lifted from him a little more. With every layer, Yifan is stripping the emperor away from him, leaving behind only  _ Yixing _ .

Once he has reached the last layer, Yifan stops. Instead of undoing the sash that's holding the cotton robe in place, he traces his hand down Yixing's arm until he can intertwine their fingers. The touch is feather-light, leaving Yixing's skin tingling in Yifan’s trail, but Yifan's hold is firm and warm.

A smile plays around Yixing's lips, Yifan's features reflecting it as the concubine’s other hand caresses Yixing's cheek. Then Yifan is leaning in to kiss him. The press of his lips is soft, and Yixing sighs into the kiss as his eyes close. His own hands come up to cup Yifan's face, one hand wandering into Yifan's hair as the concubine tilts his head to deepen the kiss. It's not hurried, their mouths moving in slow tandem and Yixing feels the tension drain from his muscles with every touch of Yifan's, every swipe of his tongue against Yixing's lips.

When they finally part, Yixing's slightly breathless, but he knows it's not the main reason for the lightheadedness he's feeling. That one's all on Yifan and how, after all these years he's been at Yixing's side, he can still make his head spin and his stomach lurch, while simultaneously settling him down.

Yifan waits for Yixing to open his eyes again, and after they share a single gaze, Yifan leans in once more. This time he only pecks Yixing's cheek lightly before disentangling their fingers so he has both hands free to feel along Yixing's body. He takes a step back, creating just enough distance between them that he can bend down to kiss along Yixing's clothed torso. 

Yixing can’t help but wish he could feel Yifan's lips right against his skin without the layer of cotton separating them, but he let's Yifan do as he pleases. Rather than voicing his thoughts, he lightly massages Yifan's scalp, and Yifan's responding hum of appreciation sounds almost like a purr.

Yifan's mouth glides along Yixing's upper body, one hand caressing up and down Yixing's side. The other one moves with clear determination to the single sash that’s holding the last barrier between Yixing's skin and Yifan's touch in place. Yixing sighs when Yifan's nimble fingers finally undo it. Still, Yifan doesn't pull the fabric aside yet to reveal Yixing's chest. Instead, he kisses up to the hem of the fabric, right above Yixing's collarbones, and then moves beyond.

Yixing gasps, the sudden contact of Yifan's lips with his throat unexpected, but not unwelcome. There’s a light brush of air hitting Yixing's neck, which is Yifan's chuckle at Yixing's entirely predictable reaction, and Yixing tries his best not to squirm. Even if his success is questionable, Yifan doesn't tease him about it. He’s too busy nipping at Yixing's neck. The concubine is well aware of all of Yixing's sensitive spots and he knows exactly how to draw certain reactions from Yixing.

The grip Yixing has on Yifan's hair tightens and he inhales sharply when he feels Yifan's teeth graze against his skin. Yifan would never apply enough pressure to leave marks in a place so blatantly obvious but he knows that the sensation will still send a shiver down Yixing's spine. Yixing releases the air he's been holding in a trembling exhale and he's sure he feels Yifan smirk against his skin in response. There's a pleasure the concubine draws from unravelling Yixing, one that Yixing can very much relate to, as he isn't much different when it comes to Yifan.

When Yifan's hands eventually wander beneath Yixing's robe, Yixing shudders. It draws a smile from Yifan, the way Yixing says, “Yifan,” in a sigh full of fondness. He strokes along Yixing's skin softly and kisses a trail from Yixing's neck down to his collarbones. As he moves lower, he brushes the cotton away from Yixing's shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.

Yifan traces Yixing's chest with his mouth, mapping his pectorals and faint abdominals. Yixing inhales sharply when Yifan's lips brush against his right nipple, immediately followed by a tongue darting out to tease it. Yixing's hands, which have fallen to Yifan's shoulders, grip a little tighter. Taking it as an encouragement, Yifan repeats the motion while bringing up his hand to roll Yixing's other nipple between his fingers. The ministrations have Yixing hardening in his undergarment, and he expresses his pleasure through low moans. 

Yifan doesn't dwell on his nipples too long, just making sure that both are equally teased and lathered in saliva before his mouth continues its descent. Right before reaching Yixing’s rib cage, Yifan drops to his knees. It feels as though Yixing’s blood is following the trail of Yifan's lips, pooling in his groin when Yifan's hands gently glide down Yixing's hips then grab the back of his thighs.

Yifan's hands are gigantic, especially in comparison to Yixing's own rather delicate ones, and it never ceases to amaze Yixing how Yifan's hands cover more than half of his thigh. It's tempting in this position to rock forward, to point Yifan's attention to Yixing's growing need. Not that Yifan would require the reminder, it’s blatantly obvious that he wants to continue his teasing, considering how he's caressing the lines leading down to Yixing's groin but stopping right at the hem of Yixing's undergarment.

Yifan strokes his hands up and down the back of Yixing's thighs while ignoring the increasingly obvious tenting in front of him in favour of gently sucking on the skin covering Yixing's hip bones. Yixing silently wishes that Yifan will leave hickeys behind.

It was a long and incessant battle until Yixing finally got Yifan to leave marks on his body. The concubine always claimed that it isn't appropriate for him to blemish Yixing's perfect, unmarred skin. After all, Yixing is a royal, and Yifan is nothing but a scholar. It took hours, days, weeks, of arguing, reassuring, and pleading until Yifan gave in and agreed. Even then, he only sucks hickeys into places that the public can't see, but Yixing is perfectly fine with that. Having the inside of his thighs and his hips covered in spots of red and purple, perfect reminders of having Yifan's mouth in the same place, is everything Yixing could ask for.

So when he does feel Yifan's mouth apply more pressure, he lets out a low moan, knowing exactly how much that spurs Yifan on. 

“Yes,  _ yes _ , Yifan, please,” he chants in encouragement.

True to his expectations, Yifan's fingers grip the flesh of his thighs the tiniest bit tighter and, as soon as the bruise is blossoming beneath Yixing's skin, he moves to the side to leave another mark.

Only when there are multiple red spots dotting Yixing's waist does Yifan let off. But instead of finally relieving Yixing of his last piece of clothing, Yifan rises to his feet, letting his lips brush against Yixing's skin as he does. He stills when he's at eye level with Yixing, but his gaze remains fixed on Yixing's mouth. Yifan doesn't move for a few heartbeats, he simply remains so close that they share the same air. When he does eventually lean forward, Yixing expects to be caught in a passionate kiss but Yifan just pecks his lips, so light and fast it almost reminds Yixing of the first kiss they ever shared–tentative, unsure, full of promise.

Yixing is so caught up in his own head, that he doesn't even fully register Yifan moving until he feels the breeze of cold air taking the place of Yifan’s warmth. He looks up, and sees Yifan study him with a small smile, standing barely an arm's length away, as if he's waiting for Yixing's attention to catch up with him. It's only once Yifan's certain that Yixing's watching that he moves again, turning around slowly to give Yixing the best show he can.

Everyone in the court has a different theory as to why Yixing chose to have Yifan as his concubine, from it being an act of charity towards a destitute scholar to Yixing wishing for someone to warm his bed. Faceless voices around court even whispered, full of spite, that it must must merely be Yixing’s shameful desires to be taken and dominated by someone strong and handsome. Yixing doesn't quite get why it's so difficult for them to fathom that the reason he chose Yifan as his concubine, is as simple as having a close friendship which has grown into love.

There are many wrongful presumptions floating around the court regarding Yifan, and Yixing always admires how Yifan accepts them with his head held high and his heart calm. He doesn't care what people say about him, as long as Yixing knows the truth. 

Yixing often wishes to righten the skewed opinions or wrong perceptions the court holds of his lover, but there are also sides of Yifan Yixing doesn’t want anyone else to know. When they see Yifan, they see a scholar, a handsome face, and a strong body. They may see silent control and, if they look closely, they can catch the passion in Yifan's eyes. Everyone can see his kindness and a select few are blessed with his warm smiles. But none have even half a clue about the seductiveness that can infuse Yifan’s every movement when he wishes to entertain Yixing.

Yifan is taking his time in sauntering over to the bed, drawing Yixing's attention to the sheerness of his robe once more. Every step of Yifan makes the fabric move tantalisingly, and Yixing can't help his gaze from wandering down Yifan's broad back, following his tapering waist until he comes to Yifan's ass. A thrill of anticipation runs through Yixing's veins but he stays put, observing as Yifan reaches the large mattress.

Yifan casts a glance over his shoulder, as if to make sure Yixing is still watching–as if there was any way that Yixing could ever stop watching Yifan when he's putting himself on display like this. Perhaps it's just a figment of his imagination, but Yixing swears he sees a slight shiver run through Yifan's body at the intensity of Yixing’s gaze on him.

Holding Yixing's eyes, Yifan lets a smile slip onto his lips as he lets the robe glide from his shoulders. It pools on the floor and Yixing finally gets an unobstructed view of the concubine's naked body. He's sure his throat is going dry at the very same moment that his mouth is watering, watching Yifan climb onto the bed. As he settles back into the pillows, Yixing sees the evidence that Yifan himself is anything but unaffected by his own teasing. Yifan's cock is beginning to curve upwards against his stomach, but Yifan ignores it in favour of reaching to the side.

There are numerous pots of scented oils sat on the bedside table, prepared as per Yixing's demand. He favours for nice scents, his sense of smell always having been rather pronounced. Not that Yifan himself doesn't already have the most delicious, mouth-watering scent clinging to his skin, sometimes Yixing merely likes to add new notes. They mix the scent that is distinctly and irreplaceably Yifan with floral notes like lotus or jasmine, or something deeper, like clove or sandalwood.

When Yifan reaches next to him, Yixing can't tell which scent he's chosen since he's still too far away to smell it and he hasn't memorised the colours of the different jars. Yet, he suppresses his curiosity and stays rooted to his spot, awaiting Yifan's next move. He doesn't want to interfere. At least, not yet.

Even though Yifan is well aware that he's being watched, Yixing feels a bit like a voyeur when Yifan closes his eyes and lets his fingers dance across his chest. Yixing almost expects him to go straight for his own cock but Yifan does no such thing. 

“This,” Yifan’s voice is wavering slightly, as if he’s trying to keep it steady while he draws mindless patterns onto his own chest, “is all yours.  _ I’m _ all yours.”

Then he continues massaging the oil in, as if to wantonly prepare himself for Yixing. Every now and then, he'll reach for the jars again, scooping up more of the warm liquid and spreading it on his skin. Yixing can tell he's using different oils, mixing their scents together as if he's creating a delicately intoxicating perfume right there on his body. It makes Yixing itch to get close enough that he can let his nose ghost right over Yifan's skin.

Yifan, however, makes no move to really speed things up. He uses his oil-slicked fingers to twist and tweak his own nipples, releasing shuddering breaths and low moans. Yifan is the silent type, but in bed, a different side gets revealed. The concubine might not be one for embellished exclamations of lust per se, but he knows very well how it gets to Yixing.

Though Yixing's undergarment is light, he still feels sweat starting to bead on his forehead as heat rises in his body. When Yifan rolls his nipples between his fingers, the concubine’s hips buck up into the air seemingly involuntarily. Yifan is putting on a show for Yixing, and if his goal is to get Yixing riled up, it's working. 

Unable to keep his distance any longer, Yixing discards of his underwear before striding over to the bed. Catching the movement, Yifan slows his teasing, his hand moving almost lazily as he waits for Yixing. His gaze is fixed on the emperor, hot and inviting, but Yixing comes to a halt right next to the bed. He's close enough that he’s within touching distance, but he keeps his hands at his side.

"Go on," he whispers, knowing that Yifan will understand what he means.

Yifan arches one of his strong eyebrows, his eyes briefly darting down to Yixing's erect cock, as if he can't believe that Yixing might not want to pounce him right away. But then he does as Yixing requested. There is a newfound vigour fuelling his actions, his hand moving with determination this time as he spreads his legs further to give Yixing a better view.

Having Yixing so close instills a boldness in Yifan, or perhaps it’s just an elevated sense of urgency. He seems to take the fact that Yixing still isn't touching him as a challenge, a wordless command to try harder. And so, he does. While he previously had steered clear of his nether regions, Yifan now shamelessly reaches down to engulf the base of his cock with one hand while the other continues to tease his nipple. It's a sight Yixing quite enjoys, he must admit.

Yifan's hands are huge, and while Yifan's cock isn't to be scoffed at either in size, he still manages to envelope his entire length in his grip. Pleasure etches itself onto his features as Yifan starts moving his fist up and down, slowly and teasing at first but then continuously speeding up. He seems to have forgotten about Yixing standing at the bedside, as his eyes fall shut and he throws his head back. His moans, ever increasing in volume and pitch, make Yixing's fingers itch to provide himself with some relief too, but he just balls them into fists and keeps watching.

The room is still mostly well-lit, more candles burning than is often the case when they lie with each other. Yifan, evidently, intended for Yixing to appreciate the full glory of his sheer robes. And, Yixing is very grateful for that, as it means he now has a perfect view of the blush that's spreading all the way from Yifan's chest up to his cheeks. There is sweat beading on Yifan's brow, and his entire torso shines with the shimmer of the oil he had massaged into his skin. Yixing knows that, if the sun hits Yifan's hair just right, it shines in a dark brown–just like Yifan's eyes turn near golden–but it looks almost pitch black in the muted light of the chamber, fanned out across the white satin pillows.

Yifan looks absolutely delicious and Yixing's resistance snaps. Alerted by the way the mattress dips, Yifan stills his hands and his eyes fly open. When he spots Yixing, crawling towards him on all fours, he releases a drawn-out noise of both need and satisfaction entwined. He spreads his legs even further to accommodate Yixing between.

“I need you closer, Yixing,” Yifan complains when Yixing’s lingering above him. 

“But, what if I want to admire how gorgeous you look for a little longer?” Yixing chuckles slightly in response, letting his gaze drift over Yifan’s upper torso before settling on his face. “Because you do, you look breathtaking.”

Impatience is written all over Yifan’s actions, but his features still soften. 

“You’re one to talk. I can’t believe how handsome you are.” Yifan strokes up Yixing’s biceps until he can wrap his arms around the emperor’s shoulders. “But, you made me wait, so kiss me already.”

With that, he uses his hold to drag Yixing down, who doesn’t have any intentions of denying Yifan any longer. He takes Yifan's lower lip between his teeth, nibbling it before sucking it into his mouth. Yifan's hands glide up and down Yixing's bare back, down to his waist to where his ass begins, then back up as he coaxes Yixing's tongue into his mouth. The kisses leave Yixing's head spinning, his lungs burning, even as he’s too reluctant to part for oxygen. Blood is pooling in his groin, so Yixing finally gives in and lowers his hips. His erection brushes against Yifan's and Yixing swallows the moans it elicits right from the other's mouth.

He starts rolling his hips slowly in a quest for constant friction. It's enough to send sparks of pleasure up his spine, but it falls just short of actually being satisfying. After all, Yixing still has something else planned. Yifan has been putting on such a great show for him and, in Yixing's eyes, he does deserve a reward for that. Yet, he’s rather reluctant in pulling back from Yifan’s lips.

“No, don’t stop,” Yifan whines in frustration when Yixing eventually does break the kiss, which is amplified once Yixing also lifts his hips. 

“There’ll be more kisses. I promise that I’ll make this worthwhile.” Yixing quiets Yifan with a peck to the corner of his mouth before kissing his way down. 

He follows the column of Yifan's neck, then passes his collarbones until he reaches his chest. Finally, he gets to appreciate which scents Yifan has chosen, and an involuntary moan escapes him at just how good Yifan smells. He catches the herbal notes of black tea, mixed with the rich amber of labdanum. The sweet hint of vanilla ties it all together. And, Yixing actually feels his mouth water.

“You smell absolutely delicious,” Yixing ardently whispers.

Unable to resist, he darts his tongue out to lick over the erect nubs protruding from Yifan's chest, knowing the taste won't quite match the scent but Yifan's delicious reaction makes it worth it. One of Yifan’s hands buries itself in Yixing's hair, his grip just tight enough that Yixing feels it without it being painful. It's as if Yifan is trying to anchor himself.

Yixing doesn't linger on teasing Yifan's nipples for long, though. Instead, he continues his way, nosing along Yifan's chest as he goes. Every deep inhale he takes smells like the wonderful combination of the oils mixed with Yifan's own warm scent, and every hot exhale that hits Yifan's skin elicits a small shiver from the other. It's a sight to behold, but Yixing has his destination clear in mind and he doesn't let himself be distracted for too long.

Yifan's cock is proudly curving against his stomach, fully erect. Yixing feels a smile of anticipation spread on his lips as he traces Yifan's length with his nose. Since Yifan's hand still was slick with the oils when he was getting himself off, the scents were rubbed onto the appendage as well. It means that the same mouth-watering smell hovers around Yixing when he covers Yifan's cock in kittenish licks. It twitches whenever Yixing's tongue makes contact. 

“Yixing!” The concubine keens, whilst the hand that's buried in Yixing's hair tightens its hold the tiniest bit.

The reaction is involuntary, Yixing is sure, but he hums to show his appreciation. He follows along the engorged vein at the side of Yifan's cock, until he reaches the head. Yifan's breathing is going considerably faster than it was just a few moments prior, his panting is interrupted by broken by moans every now and then. Wanting to hear more pleasure from Yifan, Yixing uses his tongue to tease the slit that's oozing precum already, waiting for the strangled groan that gets caught in Yifan's chest. Once he hears it, Yixing fully takes Yifan into his mouth and, without any preamble or warning, he sinks down until Yifan's cock hits the back of his throat.

Yifan loses his breath for a moment, spluttering before releasing a drawn-out moan. His hips buck up involuntarily but Yifan fights them back down, not wanting Yixing to choke. Still, Yixing is intent on breaking Yifan's control a fraction further. And, he knows exactly what Yifan likes. So he swallows around Yifan's cock then bobs his head up and down a few times. When he next has Yifan’s cock fully enveloped, he hums in the back of his throat. Yifan's knuckles are as white as the sheets he's clasping but Yixing takes no mercy on him. Saliva is dribbling out of his mouth and Yixing’s technique is messy and inelegant, but Yifan is very clearly enjoying himself.

“D- _ damn, Yixing _ ,” Yifan curses, his eloquence slipping the closer to the edge he gets.

Yixing is so very tempted to bring Yifan to completion like this, but manages to fight the desire down. When he pulls away from Yifan's cock with a plopping sound, a string of saliva connects his mouth with the tip. Yifan, who had been watching him with hooded eyes the entire time, groans at the sight. But, Yixing isn't quite done yet with his reward. He nuzzles against Yifan's length, presses a wet kiss to the inside of his thigh, and lathers Yifan's balls in saliva. He sucks them into his mouth shortly before moving lower.

When his hot breath hits Yifan's hole, it sends a shiver of anticipation through Yifan's body. There was a time when Yifan was way too shy to let Yixing do this to him, when Yifan was still worried that it was his role to pleasure Yixing and that he couldn't have it be the other way around. Yixing has long since managed to convince him, however, that Yifan's pleasure directly translates to Yixing’s own pleasure.

So, when Yixing darts his tongue out, to tease the puckered rim, Yifan doesn't hold back his shameless moans. There is a neediness in the sound that sends sparks through Yixing's veins and he delves down with an increased sense of urgency. His hands feel around Yifan's thighs and glide under the other’s body, lifting him off the mattress the slightest bit for easier access. And then Yixing is pushing his tongue in, massaging the inside of Yifan's walls and only pulling away to gasp for air before getting back to his task right away.

“Sweet heavens, Yixing,  _ yes. Yes!” _

His own cock is throbbing painfully between his legs but Yixing doesn't care, he won't cease his tongue's movements. The concubine's unrestrained cries of pleasure are bouncing off the walls and the sound is as addictive as ever. Yixing has had more prodigies of musical instruments play for him in court than he can count on both of his hands, and he's heard the sweetest notes an erhu can produce. But if Yixing could only hear one things for the rest of his life, he would decide for the noises Yifan produces in the throes of pleasure. Noises that Yixing is the cause of, and his chest swells with pride at the knowledge.

No matter how focused he is on Yifan, Yixing’s own erection keeps demanding attention. It's almost unconscious, the way he starts moving his body in fluid motions to grind against the sheets. The satin provides very little friction but it's better than nothing, at least for a while. He only lets off when Yifan's thighs are quivering and his voice has gone husky. As he withdraws, he kisses his way along Yifan's hipbone, then pulls away to reach for the jars of oil set on the bedside table.

In comparison to all the teasing, stretching Yifan is fast business. With how loose the concubine is, Yixing deducts that he already prepared himself in the time he was waiting for Yixing. A feral growl builds in his chest at the thought of Yifan stretching himself, and he thrusts his fingers in with just that tiny bit more urgency. Yifan responds in kind by bucking his hips to meet him.

“Yixing,  _ hurry _ .” Yifan’s voice is laced with clear desperation, his need fully showing itself for the first time that night. “I need you inside me. Now.”

Yifan's control never fails to amaze Yixing. They both like pushing each other to the limit and watch how long it takes for one of them to start begging, but even though Yixing never admits it, he knows Yifan bests him in terms of controlling his own desire. So if Yifan is releasing needy cries for Yixing's cock, it means he's very near his limit. And Yixing himself feels like he's about to burst as well, so he places a wet kiss on Yifan's hipbone before withdrawing his fingers.

He reaches for the oils on the bedside table again blindly, not caring which scent he ends up with as he lathers his length in the warm liquid for lubrication. Then he aligns himself with Yifan's entrance and immediately begins pushing in, slowly and with as much control as he can muster.

Yifan's warmth wraps around his cock, welcoming him in the most tempting of ways, and Yixing only realises he's holding his breath when his concentration is broken by Yifan's hands squeezing his biceps. The concubine's features are a picture of forced relaxation, the strain of the stretch evident in the concentrated lines as Yifan tries to relax himself. He's well used to Yixing's size, but every time it takes a few moments for Yifan to adjust anew–unless it's their third round of a night already, and Yifan is loose enough that Yixing can just slip into him from behind with no preparation.

The thought evokes pictures of Yifan lying next to him in bed, sweat-soaked and pliant, exhausted to the point of barely being able to move anymore but still begging for Yixing's cock. Yixing's hips buck forward involuntarily in reaction, and Yifan groans as his eyebrows bunch together.

"I'm sorry," Yixing apologizes for the sudden movement, but Yifan just waves his concern away.

"m’fine," he whispers, even though his furrowed forehead claims otherwise. "Just need you."

Yifan's voice is breathy but the words ring loud and clear in Yixing's ears. They're all the invitation he needs to start moving. At first he goes slow, testing how well Yifan can take him. When the concubine shows no sign of protest, he speeds up, and is instantly rewarded by Yifan's fingers digging into his arms as a broken noise of pleasure falls from his lips.

It's then that Yixing thrusts into Yifan in earnest. The friction Yifan's walls provide for Yixing's cock nearly makes his eyes roll back, but Yixing forces himself to not get lost in the sensation. First, he has to find the spot that will make sparks dance before Yifan's eyes, as he once described it to Yixing.

He doesn't get the chance to fully adjust his angle to the one he knows Yifan prefers, however, when Yifan's hands suddenly grab him with purpose, not as a reflex. 

“Yixing,” the concubine mewls Yixing’s name as he pulls him down, “you said there would be more kisses. I want them. Kiss me.”

Yixing, eager to fulfill Yifan’s demand, leans forward until he can meld their lips together. The change in position jostles Yixing's length inside Yifan and it seems to hit the right spot, as Yifan arches his back, a muted keen resounding between them. A new wave of lust sets Yixing's veins on fire, and he thrusts in harder. He holds himself in place for a few heartbeats before pulling out as far as he can go, then repeating the motion.

Yifan quickly turns into a writhing mess beneath him and Yixing absolutely loves it. Yifan’s mouth hangs open as he keeps panting and it's the perfect invitation for Yixing to nibble on Yifan's lower lip. Pressed this close together, Yifan's cock is rubbing against Yixing’s stomach and Yixing can feel the vibrations of Yifan's moans right against his rib cage. Yifan tries his best to kiss Yixing back but he struggles to catch his breath fast enough.

His hands are stroking up and down Yixing's back, large enough to reach from one shoulder blade to the other, before wandering down until he can grab Yixing's ass. It causes Yixing to jolt forward with slightly more force than intended, but Yifan just throws his head back in evident pleasure. He holds Yixing in place and doesn't allow him to draw back as he cranes his head up, so he can suck on Yixing's earlobe.

"I need my torso to be covered in your marks," Yifan whispers into Yixing's ear, and Yixing's cock twitches at the words.

Yifan makes sure to moan right into Yixing's ear in response, as if Yixing still needed an added incentive to go along with Yifan's request. When in reality, there's nothing he would love to do more than leave his mark all over Yifan's pristine skin, cover his torso in hickeys. There is no one in the court who would dare challenge his claim on Yifan, but it doesn't change that the idea of marking Yifan as his triggers a primal instinct of  _ want _ and  _ mine  _ in Yixing.

So even when Yifan's hold eases up, allowing Yixing to move, Yixing doesn't pick up his pace again. He takes his time as he kisses his way from Yifan's ear down to his throat, where he begins fulfilling Yifan's request. The concubine's breath shudders when Yixing sucks at the skin of his neck, until purple blossoms beneath his mouth. Yixing continues in that fashion, leaving a trail of love bites in his wake as he starts covering Yifan's chest.

Then, without any warning, he rolls his hips and presses right against Yifan's prostate. Yifan nearly chokes on his breath in response, before moaning Yixing's name and digging his fingers into Yixing's shoulders. With controlled movements, Yixing works up a pleasurable yet teasing pace–while, at the same time, keeping up with his quest of littering Yifan's chest with hickeys.

There is an edge to Yifan's cries at this point. Yixing can tell the concubine's getting close and he, himself, feels his endurance fray as well. His hips are losing their rhythm as he speeds up more and more in his pursuit for friction. Sweat is beading on his skin, and the slapping of his hips against Yifan's backside mixed with their pants and groans is the only noise filling the room. Due to the lack of oxygen, Yixing eventually has to give up on sucking his marks into Yifan's skin. So his hands find Yifan's and he intertwines their fingers before pinning Yifan’s arms on either side of the concubine’s head. Their gazes meet when Yixing hovers above Yifan like that, the other's pupils blown with lust.

"You're going to cum just from having me in you," Yixing declares in a raspy whisper.

Then he rams into Yifan with full strength, reaching deeper than before, and sending Yifan thrashing. The concubine is tilting his hips back the best he can in their position, meeting Yixing's thrusts as he tries to get off with nothing but Yixing's cock massaging his prostate.

When he eventually does cum, it is with a broken scream of Yixing's name, loud enough that Yixing is sure the guards all around his quarter must have heard. He continues rolling into Yifan all throughout Yifan’s climax, allowing him to ride his high until there is no cum spurting from his cock anymore. Yixing, still painfully hard himself, pulls out as soon as Yifan has slumped against the pillows, his body shaking slightly from the force of his orgasm.

Yifan whines immediately, he complains that Yixing needn’t worry about causing Yifan pain and that he should keep going, but Yixing shushes him. Finishing inside Yifan is glorious, indeed, but that's not what's on Yixing's mind that night. Instead, he kneels right above Yifan's thighs and uses his hand to bring himself to completion, squirting his semen all over Yifan's stomach and chest. With satisfaction, he watches it mix with Yifan's own atop the marks Yixing sucked into his skin just moments prior.

Once he has milked himself dry, Yixing takes a moment to admire the view. 

Yifan looks utterly debauched, his torso shining with the mixture of oil, saliva, and now cum, his hair in a disarray and his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

"You're gorgeous," Yixing marvels, then leans down to catch Yifan's lips in a kiss.

It's slow, almost sensual, now that they've both had a chance to sate the fire of lust. When Yixing tries to pull away, Yifan draws him right back in. Yixing doesn't even care about the mess on the other’s body as he lowers himself to rest on Yifan's chest, burying his hands in Yifan’s hair. He indulges Yifan's need for kisses until the concubine is willing to let him go.

It’s Yifan who first complains about the stickiness, so Yixing reluctantly agrees to leaving the bed in order to clean themselves up but he makes sure that it’s fast business so they can return to their chamber. The second they’re both settled on the mattress again, Yixing pulls Yifan onto his chest and wraps his arms around the concubine's shoulders as he presses a soft kiss to Yifan’s hair. Yifan hums contently and slots his legs between Yixing's as he nuzzles himself even deeper into Yixing's side.

"Look at that, you actually made me forget about those thick-headed advisors," Yixing notes in a low voice, almost as if speaking to himself.

It causes Yifan to lift his head in order to look at Yixing. There is visible concern on his features again, and it tempts Yixing to bring his fingers up so he can smooth the tension from Yifan's forehead. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Yixing considers for a moment, then he shakes his head. "It's just the usual. And now you're here with me, so I don't want to think about anything but you."

"As you wish, my emperor." Yifan smiles, "Providing you with distraction is my purpose, after all."

Yixing knows Yifan is teasing him. When they're in private, Yifan only addresses him with his title in jest, but Yixing's expression still softens as he stays serious. Yifan is trying to lighten the mood, but Yixing suddenly can't contain the feelings brewing in his chest.

"You're not providing me with distraction, Yifan. You're providing me with purpose."

_ And with strength and with the will to go on, to brace adversity, anything to keep you safe and by my side.  _ Yixing adds in his mind, but the words don't leave his lips because he’s too occupied responding to Yifan's kisses.


End file.
